Should i go along
With a fake smile

Or just frown all day

'If I were a woman, I would've kissed you.
And inhale your soul.
But I am only a girl. And I can't grow up.'

Watching her get ready
Staring into the mirror
Putting on her makeup
And fixing her hair
The mirror knows as I know
Of them all, she is the most fair

She is more than easy on the eyes
But her real beauty
Within the temperament of her heart it lies

She leaves an emptiness in her absence
And steals the show in her presence
There are many reasons to miss her when she is gone

She is the definition of true beauty
I love her for her
And she loves me for me

There once was a girl
Who lived in the dark
There was nobody
No one
Who seemed to talk
She wanted to play
She wanted to run
But the only thing was
She couldn't walk

I was just telling a friend about the wonders
of where I used to live.

The snow, the beaches, the bears, the places.

And it all came flooding back;
a huge tidal wave of longing hit me

I feel like my heart is caged here.
There are people all around.
Trees only dot the street corners.
Civilization everywhere you look.

This is not my natural habitat.
This is not where I belong.
I need to escape into and endless landscape
of nature and wilderness.

I need to go back to my home and native land,
the True North Strong and Free

My words are not beautiful
You are beautiful

Waiting for a biopsy result can be its own kind of hell
because you can't be sure whether time
will bring you something good or **** you.

It's not that I fear death yet, even though I know I will,
it's the anticipation of the death process ripping me down
from the inside out while people I love are sorrowful
and try to be brave for me.

And yet, the answer time is hiding could be life
full and warm and wonderful and long,
which is to say death will use a slower process to claim me
and those who love me will have more time to watch
as I fade to the Place we all must go.

It strikes me then these moments, even now
as I bare my soul to you, are something
to be enjoyed rather than spent in dread of what time could bring,
for the ultimate result has never been avoided.

I will miss you.

'We were flowers, covered in dirt.
We were clouds, falling into rain.
We were rivers, becoming dry.
We were candles, burning up.'